Faces of Deception (28 page)

Clearly, he would need Seema’s help to find the fountain, but he did not dare ask. The secret loomed over their relationship as heavy and foreboding as the ice-blue sky, an unspoken conflict they both feared to address. Atreus had asked many times whether there was not some way to change his external appearance, and Seema had always sidestepped the question, invariably changing the subject to his perception of himself. He could feel her holding back, trying desperately to avoid lying to him as she had lied about Langdarma, yet determined to keep from him some confidence she held even more dear than the valley’s existence. As for Atreus, he felt burdened with guilt, like a thief who insinuates himself into a rich man’s house in order to rob him blind. He did not see how Langdarma would be harmed by taking a single vial of water from the Fountain of Infinite Grace, yet he did not dare broach the subject for fear that the mere asking would somehow make his task impossible.

The trail entered the woods again and continued forward over the brink of the basin, but Seema turned up a side path and began to lead them uphill. The slope grew steadily steeper as they went. Soon, they were zigzagging up a series of switchbacks, creeping across craggy outcroppings and stealing glimpses down into the main valley. In many ways, it was a larger version of the upper basin, with a little less forest, a lot more barley field, and a broad blue river snaking down the center. At the far end, the valley gradually narrowed to a shadowy black gorge and disappeared into a wall of ice-capped mountains.

They had just reached the steepest part of the hillside when they began to hear voices chattering ahead. Seema broke from a fast walk into a run, tugging Atreus’s yak along behind her. From somewhere ahead came a loud crash, followed by the clatter of tumbling stone.

Atreus and Seema emerged from the forest onto a steep, jumbled talus slope. Twenty paces below, a circle of men were gathered around Yago’s stooped form. Above the ogre stood an old man in a scarlet tabard, issuing commands in a thickly accented voice that Yago probably could not understand. By the woolen herb satchel hanging over the old man’s shoulder, Atreus guessed that this was Kumara, the healer Timin had mentioned.

Seema tied the yak’s lead to a bush. Atreus dismounted and followed her down to the crowd. They arrived to find the head and shoulders of a glassy-eyed man protruding from beneath a wagon-sized slab of granite. The poor fellow was lying on a blood-smeared boulder, babbling incoherently about yetis and devils. Yago stood over him, struggling alongside several villagers to keep the huge slab from dropping on his chest. Timin was kneeling next to the victim, presumably his father, stroking his hair and speaking gently while two other men pulled his arms. A third man had crawled under the stone so far that only the soles of his boots remained visible.

The victim shrieked in pain, and a muffled voice under the slab cried out, “Now!”

The men holding the victim’s arms stepped back, pulling him from beneath the boulder. As his legs came free, one ankle began to spurt long arcs of blood. The other merely oozed from a smashed stump. Kumara instantly jumped down beside the injured man and pressed one hand to the spurting ankle, fishing through his woolen satchel with the other.

The brave man under the slab began to inch out, but Yago was having trouble holding the heavy stone. He groaned deeply, and gasped, “Fingers… slipping!”

The villagers frowned and began to jabber in confusion, and Atreus realized they had not understood the ogre’s warning. He shouldered his way into the crowd, grabbed the ankles of the man under the stone, and jerked him out backward.

“In the name of the Five Kingdoms, take care!” the hero cried, twisting around to glare up at his handler.

“Rishi?” Atreus gasped, surprised to find himself staring down at his sly guide. “What are you getting out of this?”

“Nothing,” Rishi, flushed with embarrassment, answered. “I am as surprised as you are, but no one else believed Yago could hold the stone.”

At that instant, Yago cried out in alarm and jumped back. The granite slab crashed down, shaking the whole talus slope, and Atreus thought for an instant that the rockslide would begin again.

Rishi’s eyes widened at the near miss, and he spun to glare at Yago. The ogre merely shrugged and turned away, stooping over the other onlookers to peer down at Timin’s father.

“Is he gonna live?”

The father’s glassy eyes grew round, then he began to shake his head in fear.

“Yeti devil!”

Yago’s heavy brow rose. “Me?”

The man tried to push himself away. “Thief of daughters!” He scraped his fingers across the rock, searching for something to throw, crying, “Where is my Lakya?”

Atreus stooped over the man. “Is that what happened to your daughter?” he asked. “Did a devil steal her?”

When the man’s gaze shifted to Atreus, he screamed in terror and cried, “Devils everywhere!”

He struggled to escape, flailing around so hard that the old healer could no longer hold him.

“You must step away,” ordered Kumara. His glower slid from Atreus to Yago. “Both of you.”

Yago scowled. “You guys are the ones that asked me—”

“Please, my father means no offense,” said Timin, moving to block the injured man’s view of Yago. “He is delirious.”

Atreus nodded and pulled the ogre away, but even that did not calm Timin’s father.

“Return my Lakya!” the man screamed. “Give her back!”

Kumara reached into his satchel and removed a small, clear vial. The liquid inside looked remarkably like water, save that it seemed to catch the light like a fine diamond and cast it back in a sparkling aura of radiance. When Atreus made the mistake of gasping, Kumara frowned and shifted around to hide the vial from view. There was a small popping noise, then the sound of liquid being poured. A silvery halo rose around both the healer and his patient, and Timin’s father grew instantly quiet.

This time, it was the villagers who gasped.

Atreus’s heart began to pound faster. He leaned over to Seema and, as casually as he could manage, whispered, “What was that?”

Seema hesitated, then said, “Water.”

Atreus risked a doubtful frown. “Water?” he asked. “No water I’ve ever seen—”

“It comes from a special place!” Seema hissed. “Only healers may go there, and now you must ask no more.”

“Why?”

Seema scowled at him. “Because it is the Sannyasi’s wish, that is why!” She moved away, kneeled down beside Kumara, and said, “Is there anything I can do to help, Old Uncle?”

The old man gave her a glare that could have melted granite. “Have you not done enough already?” he asked.

Seema recoiled as though struck.

“What do you mean?”

Kumara nodded toward Atreus and Yago. “It is you who brought this evil on us.” He ground a leaf between his fingers, then pushed the dust into the spurting wound on his patient’s ankle and added, “You angered Fate by trying to cheat her, and now we must all pay.”

Atreus could not stand the sight of the tears that welled in Seema’s eyes. He squatted down across from Kumara, his misshapen face taut with anger.

“Speak how you wish about my friends and me, but Seema is not responsible for this,” he said, gesturing at Timin’s wounded father. “Nor is she responsible for the missing daughters. Only a coward would blame a woman for a devil’s doing.”

Kumara returned the threat with a black-eyed glare, then hissed three times. An invisible force as soft and powerful as the wind struck Atreus in the chest, knocking him to his haunches and leaving him gasping for breath.

The old healer narrowed his eyes. “In this place, you are a devil.” He glanced at Seema and added, “Women who consort with devils are witches.”

Seema gasped in outrage, then met Kumara’s eyes and locked gazes. Atreus sensed that some contest neither he nor the villagers could quite perceive, much less understand, was taking place. The two healers glared at each other for what seemed an eternity, neither blinking nor seeming to breathe, until Seema finally began to tremble.

Kumara sneered, then raised his chin. “Do you hear it, Seema?” he asked.

Atreus heard nothing, but Seema’s eyes darted toward the head of the basin.

“You see?” Kumara sneered. “Even Jalil’s ghost knows what you are.”

Seema’s eyes flashed with fury, but she seemed unable to keep from turning her gaze in the direction of her own hamlet. She cocked her head as though listening. Her shoulders slumped and tears began to spill down her cheeks. She spun away and bounded up the boulder field, leaving Kumara to smirk at her back.

Atreus glared down at the old healer and said, “If Seema did bring evil to Langdarma, she is not the first There is enough wickedness in your heart for ten devils.”

Kumara did not even look up. He simply hissed, and Atreus felt an invisible hand pushing him away. Yago scowled and started to step toward the healer, drawing an alarmed murmur from the crowd of villagers. Atreus quickly raised his hand.

“Seema wouldn’t want that.”

He motioned Yago and Rishi to his side and led the way a short distance up the talus pile. He spent the next several minutes glaring down the slope while Kumara tended to Timin’s father, until he finally felt calm enough to speak.

“That old terror is right about one thing,” he said. “Tarch followed us.”

Yago’s eyes grew round with fear, though it would have shamed the ogre to admit this, and Rishi shook his head.

“Such a thing is impossible,” the Mar insisted. “You were not conscious, so you do not know—”

“I know that two girls have disappeared since we’ve been here,” Atreus said. “It was no coincidence that Timin’s father was babbling about devils. He must have seen Tarch before the landslide.”

Rishi closed his eyes and said, “And you want to capture him.”

Atreus shook his head. “No, we’ve tried that,” he said. “I want you two to track him down. We’ll let the Sannyasi take care of the rest”

“Us two?” Yago could not quite suppress a knowing smirk as he added, “You going after the girl?”

Atreus nodded. “I’d only slow you down… and besides, you’re not to get into a fight.” He started to limp off, then paused. “Be back by dark, even if you find nothing. We promised Seema no killing, and I suppose that includes you two.”

“The good sir is most generous,” said Rishi. “I am certain he will reward us well for this danger.”

Atreus smiled, then waved his hand around the valley. “You’re seeing Langdarma,” he said. “What more do you want?”

By the time Atreus hobbled up the slope to his yak, Seema had disappeared down the trail. He untied the lead and started after her, expecting to find her waiting a few switchbacks below.

When he reached the main trail without seeing any sign of her, he began to worry. Though he was no scout, he dismounted and sorted through the muddy tracks until he convinced himself that Seema had indeed turned toward home. This hope was confirmed as he passed through the hamlet, where the worried villagers stopped him to ask why she had seemed so troubled. Atreus assured them it had nothing to do with the condition of Timin’s father, who would no doubt be returning soon under Kumara’s care. He urged his yak toward Seema’s hut

He arrived to find the door wide open and Seema kneeling beside a wooden chest, holding a small yak hair cloak. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she was still huffing from her long run. Atreus stopped just inside the door, reluctant to intrude, happy just to find her uninjured and at home.

Seema set the cloak aside, then removed a pair of brown trousers and a striped tunic. Finally, she withdrew a round hat of black felt and held it before her, running her finger along the brim. Though Atreus had not realized she knew he was there, after a time she placed the hat with the other clothes and turned to face him.

“I heard Jalil,” she said. “He was crying and calling for me, but I was gone Outside. I did not answer, and then he just stopped calling.”

Atreus limped into the room and kneeled across from her, picking up the hat. It was small, only a little larger than his fist. “Jalil was yours?” he asked. “Your son?”

“He was eight.”

She took the cloak in her hands, rubbing the material as though she could bring the boy back by stroking his clothes.

“Kumara warned me not to go. He said I could bring Jalil nothing but pain by trying to cheat Fate. And now look. I have brought evil to the whole valley.”

“You were trying to save your child. How can that be wrong?”

Atreus wanted to take her in his arms, but he could not quite bring himself to reach out, to believe that she, or anyone, would be comforted by his embrace. “If there was any evil in that, it was only that you had to go instead of Kumara,” he offered.

Seema looked up from her son’s cloak and said, “You don’t understand. life in Langdarma brings with it sacred duties, even greater than that of a mother’s love for her child.”

Atreus thought of the terrible sacrifice his own mother had made to save his life and shook his head. “There is no duty greater than that of a mother to protect her child,” he said.

“In Langdarma, there is. Langdarma is the birth home to Serene Abhirati, Mother of Peace and Beauty.”

Atreus frowned, not seeing the connection. “And?”

“And Abhirati has been gone wandering the heavens for a hundred centuries. She left us to watch over her valley, and the Sannyasi to watch over us, so that all would be the same when she returned.” Seema lowered her gaze, her hands crumpling the hem of her son’s cloak, and said, “Kumara is right to be angry with me. My selfishness has brought evil into her home.”

“Kumara is a fool,” Atreus said, taking Seema’s hands and gently smoothing Jalil’s cloak. “If Abhirati is truly the Mother of Peace and Beauty, then she will understand … as one mother to another.”

Seema looked up. “Do you think so?”

“I know so,” Atreus said. “Would Abhirati have left the Sannyasi to protect you if she were not a good mother? If she is a good mother, how can she condemn you for doing all you could to save Jalil?”

Seema considered this, then said, “That does not change the evil I have brought on the valley. If you are right about Tarch being here, it is because of me.”